Q

[0_0_7]

The mission was based in Paris and Bond had insisted on the finest accommodations. He'd made sure to get a two bedroom suite to keep up appearances as Q was going with him. It wasn't entirely the Quartermaster's job to be in the field but they needed some real time on site hacking done (or whatever wizardry it was that Q did) and so the mission was really his. Bond was his muscle, his guard dog, and his gun. Bond's job was to protect Q at all costs.

The train ride was pleasant, Bond dozing for the majority of the ride. He had a habit of falling dead asleep while travelling- he never knew if he'd get sleep while active on a mission so he stocked up on trains and planes.

And then they were at the hotel, their luggage unloaded onto a cart. Bond told the porter to be careful in flawless French and then escorted Q inside.

Comments

[quartermaster_q]

Q nodded his agreement, then pushed himself to his feet.

Bearded and bruised, without his glasses and in dirty clothes, he hardly looked like himself at all as he put his arms around Bond and embraced him, patting his back.

"Thank you for coming for me."

[0_0_7]

"You should have known I'd come," he said, holding Q as tightly as he dared. "You're my Quartermaster...I'll never leave you to fate. I'd annihilate the entire world to get you back."

[quartermaster_q]

"You bloody well better," Q replied, pulling away slowly and squinting as the team finally arrived with torches and weapons drawn.

When they finally made it to the hotel room, Q didn't even hesitate to strip down, tossing his clothes in the bin and studying himself in the mirror. He looked beaten and swollen, but not nearly as bad as he thought.

"This has to go," he said as he touched his beard.

[0_0_7]

Bond chuckled and nodded. "It's quite virile," he said with a teasing smile. "I've got my kit in my luggage. It's a cut throat razor...do you know how to use one?"

He quite liked the idea of shaving Q like this. The metaphor involved in shearing him of the most obvious evidence of his captivity other than his bruises.

[quartermaster_q]

"I'm not sure my hands are steady enough," Q confessed.

[0_0_7]

"I'll do it for you. You only need to hold still," Bond replied. He remembered the first time he'd come back from something like this. How he'd had no one. How he'd crawled inside a bottle and hadn't come out until M had ordered it. And then the next time, of course there was a next time, it hadn't been quite so bad.

But what he would have given for a soft hand, a gentle word. Someone to help him shave and see that he ate.

He could do that for Q. He would gladly do that for Q.

"If you'd like me to,: he said, giving Q something he hadn't had in a week. A choice.

[quartermaster_q]

Q was quiet for a long moment, forcing himself not to get emotional or upset, then nodded.

"Please," he said simply, swallowing hard. "I'd like to take a bath first though, if that's alright. I ache, and I'm sure I stink."

[0_0_7]

"You're not wrong," Bond replied lightly, trying to help Q keep those emotions that he could see just under the surface at bay.

"You have a bath and I'll order some food. Eggs and porridge and applesauce. Soft things, easy to digest. You can have something more substantial tomorrow," he said, clearly the voice of experience.

[quartermaster_q]

Q nodded, then looked at Bond.

"How do you do this?" he asked. "These sort of things happen to you all the time- and no one ever saves you. How do you... How can you get through this, time after time?"

[0_0_7]

Bond was quiet for a long moment. He took a breath to speak, hesitated, then said with quiet resolve.

"I do it because I must," he said. "I knew what the job was when I took it, Q. I knew the life expectancy was short and that life would be brutal. So when I don't die I consider myself fortunate and I carry on."

[quartermaster_q]

Q nodded, then turned away, headed for the bathroom.

"It's not what I signed up for," he said quietly. "I want to live."

[0_0_7]

Bond watched him go and his heartstrings tugged for the man. No, he hadn't signed up for this. He was the Quartermaster, he should be safely ensconced in HQ where no one could touch him. except Silva had proved that even there wasn't safe.

He let Q run his bath and made arrangements to have breakfast delivered, damn the time of day. For the availability on his card they damn well better feed him what he ordered. He told them to hold it off for an hour, though, to give Q time to soak.

It had been some time and Bond knocked on the door and let himself in.

"You haven't drowned, have you?" he asked as he came in.

[quartermaster_q]

"No, I've had enough of that to last a lifetime," Q confessed.

The water was going cold, but he was clean and the ache in his shoulders and arms had subsided somewhat. He was feeling a touch more human, and when Bond entered, he knew it was time to get out.

Draining the water, he stood and took a towel, patting himself dry and then wrapping it around his waist. Q always looked slight, but he never looked too thin, just small. Now, however, he looked unwell. Bones visible beneath bruised skin as he made his way over to Bond.

[0_0_7]

As soon as he was close enough Bond reached out to stroke his beard. There was a fondness and an understanding in his gaze.

"I'll get my shaving kit and we'll set you right," he said. "And by the time we're done there should be food. Sit on the toilet and I'll be right back." Then he turned to go get his shaving things out of his bag- scissors and razor and a good cake and brush. He'd put Q back together bit by bit.

[quartermaster_q]

Q put the lid down and perched on the edge of the toilet, rubbing his beard. Part of him wanted to keep it, feeling safe behind it. ...The rest of him wanted it gone and his glasses back. Part of him wanted to be himself again.

[0_0_7]

Bond returned and got the cake ready, then tipped Q's face up so he could snip off the longer bits with a pair of small scissors. His hands were gentle and practiced.

"The longest beard I've ever had was when they kept me in a North Korean prison," he said. "I'm sure you've been briefed on the file. I think everyone was shocked I didn't turn then. But I didn't. I never would. I'd die first."

[quartermaster_q]

"I really believe that," Q said softly, tilting his chin up in offering. "I'm not sure there's anything in the world that would make you turn, double-o seven."

[0_0_7]

Bond trimmed away the growth and then brushed off as much as he could. Whiskers peppered Q' chest. He tsked softly. "You're going to need a shower when I'm done just to get this all off of you," he said and then began to lather Q's cheeks and chin.

[quartermaster_q]

"I feel as though I can't shower enough," Q replied, swallowing hard, then then closing his eyes, letting himself enjoy the tender touches.

For a while he'd been sure he'd never feel a tender touch again.

[0_0_7]

"A good shower, a good meal, and a good night's rest and it will seem a bit better tomorrow. Better still the day after," Bond assured him as he began to scrape the razor across his skin, carefully and easily shearing away the remnants of the beard. Bit by bit Q looked more like himself. By the time Bond finished, Q was clearly more gaunt and bruised as well, but he looked much more like himself.

"And there you are. Already getting put back together," he said tenderly.

[quartermaster_q]

Q was silent and still as Bond shaved him, trusting the man with the blade against his skin.

When it was over, he nodded his thanks and got to his feet. His hands were shaking again, and though he'd been so calm, and so strong- he crumpled, turning away from Bond so the double-o wouldn't see.

"Right, already back together," he said moving to turn on the shower.

[0_0_7]

Bond wasn't about to coddle him. Some things a man needed to do on his own. So he tidied up and slipped out of the bathroom so Q could wash up.

The breakfast was delivered while Q was in the shower and Bond checked it over. Then he pulled out some soft pajamas for Q and laid them on the freshly turned down bed. He set about putting everything just right, then he pulled out his mobile.

"Hello, James," Moneypenny said. "And how is our boy?"

"He'll be needing some glasses, Moneypenny. Can you have some sent to the hotel straight away?"

"Oh, all business. He must not be well."

"What do you think? They've had him for five days. Tell M not to expect miracles."

His tone was just curt enough that Eve knew not to play or to flirt.

"Of course, Bond. I'll see to it," she said.

Bond hung up without a goodbye and sank into a chair.

[quartermaster_q]

It wasn't until he was under the hot spray that Q realized how tired he was. The warm water calmed his nerves, but he didn't linger. After being bound and drowned, showers suddenly felt a little less relaxing.

Wandering into the room, he found the pyjamas and dressed.

"What did you order?" he asked quietly.

[0_0_7]

"Egg and cheese scramble, some wheatberry porridge, applesauce, and there's gelatin, a well," he said, taking the covers off of the food. There was far too much for Q to eat but he needed to get something into him.

"I'd suggest starting with the porridge or applesauce. Those will be the easiest on your throat when you throw up," he said matter-of-factly.

[quartermaster_q]

Q's fingers danced cautiously over the abused and raw skin on his neck, and he looked uneasy as he reached for the apple sauce.

"What bothers me most is knowing they hardly scratched the surface," he admitted, before taking a small bite. "It was only going to get worse. ...I imagine you've suffered worse in a matter of hours."